Routine
by SammyQuill
Summary: <html><head></head>He always knew she was important in his life, he just didn't know how much until she was taken away. Royai</html>


**Title:** Routine

**Author:** SammyQuill

**Series:** Manga/Brotherhood

**Word Count:** 668

**Characters:** Roy, Riza, Bradley, others mentioned

**Summary:** "He had always knows _she _was an important part of his life. He had just never realized how much until _she_ was taken away from him. "

**Warning:** Depression, Closet Alcoholism

**A/N:** This should be pretty obvious but "her" and "she" in italics refers to Riza. I left her name out of the text on purpose.

He had always knows _she _was an important part of his life.

He had just never realized how much until _she_ was taken away from him.

A new assistant sits at _her_ desk, a pretty redhead who smiles and winks at him whenever he puts his feet up on the table, ignoring the pile of paperwork. And just that flirtatious wink is enough to get him to duck his head and get started on the forms that _she_ would have otherwise nagged him to fill out.

The girl brings him hot chocolate; with extra sugar no less, on nights he stays late, catching up on the paperwork that never seems to end. She asks if he wants her to stay too, says she wouldn't mind _in the least_.

And he dismisses her just as plainly, missing the bitter coffee and reprimands of "if you actually did it during office hours, we wouldn't have to stay late".

_She_ had never actually asked or offered to stay back with him, _she_ just always had. It was an understanding between then that neither had ever made vocal but both understood plainly.

He tries not to think of _her_ as he empties the chocolate into the redhead's potted plant after she leaves, missing the barren surface of the desk – the way its previous owner kept it. Does he feel any guilt or remorse in killing the plant? No, she likes flowers; she would have switched them for a newer, fresher bunch in a day or two anyway.

He makes his way home, jumpy and scared, no longer secure in the knowledge that from somewhere, he is being watched through _her_ rifle lens. The space behind him feels emptier then ever, devoid of his shadow.

Messages await him at home, some official, some not so:

Madam Christmas wants to know if he's feeling better, and if she should send someone to check in on him. He reassures her he is in good health. She sounds like she doesn't believe him.

One of the Generals want him to attend a meeting with the Fuhrer, asks him to make an appointment with His Excellency's secretary. The message is clear, _she_ is still in danger.

Mary, Tabitha and Christine all want to know why he stood them up. Tabitha even asks if they can pick up where they left off last week. He ignores the thinly veiled offer of sex.

His kitchen is small, too white and too bare. The result of dining out six nights out of seven, and having dinner cooked for him every Sunday, be it by Gracia or _her_. He opens the fridge, pulls out the bottle of wine, and doesn't bother with a glass.

A diet of wine and air is by no means healthy, and it would displease _her_ greatly, but his appetite seems to have vanished along with _her._

After finishing off half the bottle, bed starts seeming like a good idea. Changing into his night clothes however, does not. As a result, all his best shirts have a permanent crease, noticeable every time he removes his military jacket.

_She_ would never have stood for that, would have made him remove it just to iron it to within an inch of its fabrical existence. And on some level, he wishes _she_ would now.

Mornings are swiftly becoming routine, as are the aspirins and burnt toast and other hangover remedies. Toast is a good source of nutrients anyway, he tells himself on his way out.

His arrival at headquarters is always the same too. An ultrabright smile from the redhead whose' name he has yet to commit to memory, a new stack of paperwork perched neatly on his already crowded desk, that look from the Fuhrer if Roy is passing by.

And if he is extremely lucky, a flash of gold trailing in the wake of His Excellency.

He had always knows _she_ was an important part of his life.

He had just never realized how much until _she_ was taken away from him.

* * *

><p><strong>End Note:<strong> For those waiting on updates, _Dear Arakawa_ will be picked up in a week or so seeing as I've finished my drabbles!


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